


Rescue

by Jameson9101322



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Drama, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameson9101322/pseuds/Jameson9101322
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bumblebee's gone missing in the aftermath of a battle. It's up to Spike to find his friend... if there's anything of the little bug left to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue

“Bumblebee!?!”

Spike slid down a pile of freshly displaced debris, scanning the wreckage intently for any response. A tug of desperation gripped his throat as he avoided the hazardous spears of broken walls and ruined factory equipment. Five minutes earlier he’d watched an epic battle commute sloppily into this automated deathtrap, and after pulverizing the site into a twisted pulp, he’d watched it leave one pint-sized yellow robot short. There was the possibility that Bumblebee could have escaped during the fight, but something in Spike’s gut told him otherwise.

“Bumblebee!?!”

There was an explosion in the distance. He craned his neck over the crumpled car chassis and through the freshly nonexistent wall to see the shapes of giant robots trying to bring each other down amidst the manmade forest of an innocent office park. A sudden cacophony of car horns told him the battle had finally arrived at the highway. They were getting further away by the second. Spike frowned and returned to his search, trying to discern a sign of life amid the clamor.

“Bumblebee!?!”

There was sudden movement to his left. Spike turned fast and slipped on spilled hydraulic fluid, collapsing against a broken table and barely missing the edge of a metal railing. The raw gray of an unpainted car hood clattered hard against the rubble as a robotic arm twitched underneath. Spike’s breath caught in his throat and before thinking twice he’d sprung from his place in the wood and sprinted to the stirring metal. His foot slipped into a hidden gap in the pile and a shard of broken glass sliced a line up his shin.

The arm he’d seen was nothing more than the electric sputtering of a broken assembly robot. Spike cursed under his breath and noticed the blood on his pants. He leaned down to investigate with a heavier groan. All he needed was tetanus to go with losing his best friend. 

The boy limped to a clearing to try and clean out his wound. The hollow space he’d found was instantly recognizable as a transformer footprint. Considering the size and depth he discerned that it must have come from a larger robot like Optimus Prime. The foot itself was not big enough to crush Bumblebee but who’s to say the smallest Autobot wasn’t somewhere sandwiched beneath. Spike’s stomach twisted as the irony of the plucky little bug being smashed to death by the robot he most adored. Viciously sickened by the thought, Spike dismissed the possibility, wiped blood on his shirt and moved on.

Of all the places in the world to lose an injured robot, a vehicle assembly plant had to be the worst. No matter how foreign cybertronian technology appeared as a whole, disassembled, it was as indistinguishable from fragmented automated hydraulic assembly robots and twisted sedan bits as if he was looking for a used toaster. His only hope was that Bumblebee’s auditory receptors were still working.

“Bumblebee!?!”

Hoooooooooonk

Spike turned on his heel, tilting off balance on his wounded leg, and searched. That car horn was not from the highway like the rest of the din. The realist in him considered the possibility that one of the nearby arm-robots was a horn-installer, but his hope was stronger than logic. He took a step forward. “Bumblebee!?!”

Hooooooooooonk

That sealed it, he dashed to the top of rubble, unsure of where horn had come from. Sound echoed off the junk heap in so many random directions...

“Honk again!” Spike yelled. “Where are you?”

Hooooooonk

It was from the right. Maybe. He picked along until he found a twisted support column. At a downward angle was a straight path with another layer of debris covering the top. The blank sheets were bent backward into the cave as if hit with great force, yellow streaks of paint transferred onto their edges. Spike’s heart jumped up into his throat. He shoved a crimped wall panel off of the entrance. “Hold on, Bud, I’m coming!”

Light filtered into the cave through small gaps in the upper layers, bouncing back and forth off the reflected surfaces to create an eerie glow. Sparks shot from a bisected white assembly robot, illuminating steaks of yellow and bits of black. The walls were wet with splashes of hydraulic fluid and reflected white with each burst of electricity. Spike hugged the wall to avoid the live wire, catching his shirt on one of the metal barbs. He waited for a break in the spurting before jumping off the wall, ripping the seam out of his sleeve but leaving his arm intact. It was obvious to him that Bumblebee has been thrown backward through this mess, and steadily more obvious that he was probably in bad shape.

The boy hit a roadblock; a large portion of the roof had collapsed the tunnel ahead of him. He searched the edges for a gap to squeeze through but couldn’t find one. He’d have to dig through and hope the whole place wouldn’t crash down on top of him. It was that or climb back out and find another way. Along the top edge of a steel support rung, he found a small space through it he thought he saw the faint shape of a head and torso. “Bumblebee? Is that you? Say something!”

“Spike?”

“Bumblebee!” Spike tore into the small gap, cutting his hand on a bit of stripped metal. The roof of the cave shifted, dust and small bits raining down on top of him. The steel beam sank deeper into the heap, collapsing the tunnel behind him. Spike felt a corner scrape down his uninjured leg. The skin was protected by his jeans, but stung nonetheless. The gap where he hid opened to the sky, light and dirt falling into the chamber with the robot. Spike slipped in unhindered and found himself face to face with the battered shape of his good friend. 

Bumblebee’s arms and legs were shredded, his shoulder components ripped open and speared with bits of the factory. The metal on his helmet was striped in white and silver, huge dents on every side. The shielding on his back had protected his core, but the room still hung with the smell of burned plastic and lubricant. Amid it all, the red Autobot symbol on his chest was still intact. Spike slid down the junk to his side, horrified. 

Bumblebee looked up with as much of a smile as he could manage. “I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeah.” Spike said, trying not to stare at his limb-less-ness. “Are you okay?”

“Hah.” Bumblebee slouched, his voice soft and tired. “No.”

“At least you’re talking.” Spike said, struggling with what to do. “That’s something, right?”

“Not for long.” The robot replied. 

Spike’s insides took an unhealthy twist. “What do you mean?”

“Main power network ruptured. Battery core leaking.” Bumblebee muttered. “Loosing energy.” He pulled his head back up to look Spike square in the eye. “You‘ve got to get out of here and tell the others where I am.”

“No way, I‘m not leaving you.” Spike said. 

Bumblebee slouched a little in the wall. “Spike...”

“They‘re way far away.” The boy insisted. 

The robot smirked. “Start running.”

“Not funny.” Spike said, liltingly. “They’ll move faster than me. Radio for help.”

Bumblebee shook his head, musing a little through his exhaustion. “I shut the radio down long ago.”

“Shut it down!?!” Spike cried. “Why!?”

“Saving energy.” He replied. “As soon as you leave I’m turning off optics, audible and inaudible communications, higher-level processing, cooling, everything. Anything I can shut down I will.”

“No, you’ve got to keep talking to me.” Spike coached. “You’ve got to stay with me and we’ll get you through this.”

Bumblebee’s look softened on him, a genuinely thankful smile giving life to the Autobot’s face. “I’m not a human, Spike.”

“But...” The boy’s heart broke at the thought of leaving his friend in such a critical state. “What good can I do if I’m not here?”

“A lot.” Bumblebee insisted. “With you getting help, I can log off and save all the energy for my spark. That’s the part that really matters. If I lose it then I’m dead.”

Spike frowned, not wanting to understand. “When you say dead you mean dead like my cell phone right?” He spoke with his hands, the slightest twitch betraying the sense of panic growing inside him. “My phone dies on me all the time... Then I take it home and recharge it and its fine.”

“I mean dead like dead.” Bumblebee replied. “Like living dead. You can’t recharge a spark, its who I am. You can fix my body and get me walking again but if my spark’s out it won’t be me... I’ll be gone.”

Spike shook his head slowly, the severity of the moment made his feet feel like lead. He wanted to throw up. “But you’re a robot... You can‘t...”

“I‘m alive.” The light of his eyes dimmed a little, but his look stayed strong. “Spike, you know I can.”

“I won’t let you.” He replied.

“Then go.” Bumblebee nodded his head toward the open space. Spike tried to look but couldn’t tear his eyes away. The robot managed a final smile. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. When I wake up I’ll be on a table in Ratchet’s workshop shiny like the day I rolled off the assembly line.”

Spike hardened his face against emotion. “And if you don’t...”

His friend filtered a sigh. “I’ll never know the difference. ” His smile began to fade. “It won’t be your fault, Spike. You’re still my best friend. ”

“Bumblebee...”

He was already starting to shut down. Spike watched as parts in his exposed machinery stopped moving, the corners of his mouth sank downward out of the smile and he released the heated air from his cooling system like a final breath. Spike moved to the door, but stopped short, adrenaline pounding in his ears. It felt like leaving a sick man in a tomb. He didn’t know if Bumblebee could still hear him, but spoke anyway. His heart wouldn’t let him leave if he didn’t.

“I’m not saying goodbye.” Spike stared into the chamber, the blue lights of Bumblebee’s eyes still lit in the dim room. “I’ll be right back so there‘s no point so I‘m not saying it.” He stared intently. “You understand, right?”

His glowing eyes rose a little to focus on him, the faintness of the blue light still full of consciousness as Bumblebee’s head bobbed slightly in the smallest sense of a nod. The lights dimmed and went out. His head sank limply to his chest like a marionette left hanging by its strings. Spike realized now what he’d meant when he said he was more than just a robot. With his consciousness shut down, Bumblebee’s shape was empty and dull like the bits of unsorted metal stacked into the walls. Even his color seemed to fade. He was lifeless. 

Suddenly Spike couldn’t leave the space fast enough. He clambered out, ignoring the scrapes and cuts covering him, and hurdled the factory remains on his way to the fight, the light of car fires marking his path. The boy sprinted toward hope and away from the dark motionless corpse which now frightened him more than anything he’d ever seen in his life. He desperately had to restore animation to those circuits and gears. He had to see the face he’d learned to recognize as Bumblebee take on the life that made the Autobot who he was, because without it he was as much an automaton as the mechanisms that used to work in this ruined factory. He was dead. 

Dead with no goodbye.


End file.
